


Crashing

by That_One_Yaoi_Kid



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Carl loses it, Depression, Gen, Sad Carl, Sad Michonne, Wanna hate Negan more?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 03:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10454037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Yaoi_Kid/pseuds/That_One_Yaoi_Kid
Summary: Negan catches the Survivors at the wrong time. And he brought hostages.





	

**Author's Note:**

> No real...relationship here. Just a really depressing, death piece so enjoy?

“You all just don’t get it! You don’t get it, do ‘ya?” Negan’s voice is menacing, booming throughout the neighborhood. The Saviors caught them at the wrong time. 

 

Soldiers and strangers alike from all communities, Oceanside, the Kingdom, Hilltop, and Alexandria. Most have knifes or guns drawn, unsheathed, loaded and pointed at the enemy. Ezekiel stands on a curb, Natania and the higher animals of Oceanside behind him, Tara another face among them. Jerry stands to the king’s left, Morgan and Dianne to his right. 

 

A majority of Hilltop and the remnants of the Oceanside women cower in fear on the opposite curb, terrified of their future, or rather  _ lack  _ of. Jesus, Maggie and Enid stand in front of them, courage to the fear and fuel to the fire. Gregory stands in this crowd, avoiding all eye contact from Simon. Shame is an emotion he should  _ not  _ be feeling now.

 

All Alexandrians have taken purchase in the middle of the road, right in front of the Saviors. Rick stands in the middle of all of it, Michonne with her sword drawn beside him and Carol somewhat behind him. Her gun is aimed perfectly between Negan’s eyes, as she nervously glances at the prisoners he has gathered. 

  
  


Rosita stands defenseless, occasionally grunting as more and more blood seeps from the gunshot on her shoulder. Two unnamed goons hold her up by her arms, a tight grip she has zero fight against. Sasha’s knees are bent, keeping a steady pattern of shoulder rolls against Arat who holds her, emotion drained from her face. And Daryl stands between the women, Dwight having balled a fist in the back of his shirt and his hair.

 

The redneck struggles to regulate his breathing, regret being one of the first emotions to wash over him, depression not far behind. 

  
  


Carl stands near the back of the Alexandria crowd. He feels the heavy weight of suffocation from Tobin’s cologne in front of him. When Rick first caught sight of Negan, he ordered a fearful Gabriel, an eager Tobin, and an enraged Francine to protect the teen.

 

But in defiance, Carl stands fearlessly and slightly insane, machete drawn in one hand and hand flexing around the grip of his Makarov. Gabriel has elected to cower with the others, and Francine moved to the front, ready to shoot if things went South with the hostages. 

 

The older teen shoulders past Tobin, who widens his eyes and opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Carl moves to the middle, the sudden urge to keep everyone alive. And he pushes the thought of not being able to do so quickly. He doesn’t need doubt, not now.

 

Negan swings Lucille around carelessly, fighting the growing urge to bash  _ everyone’s  _ heads in. He was met with old friends today, but also met with a damn war. He continues a monologue about why the all should’ve listened, on how they aren’t going to get out of this unpunished, let alone  _ alive. _

 

The fighters don’t say a word, their facial expressions and stances is all Negan needs to know that no one in this crowd is going to take bullshit. Carl inhales slowly, taking another step forward. Negan catches sight of the teen, and bites back a shit-eating grin. He knows Carl wants to keep at least a majority of people alive, and knowing this, Negan just wants to kill everyone but him out of spite.

 

But deep down he knows he can’t. Someone would stop him before he could even kill three. He knows they all lost too many, surrender too much. And they weren’t willing to lose more.

 

“You see Rick, you  _ obviously  _ don’t understand what we do here.” Negan starts, sauntering his way around the various fighters, “Are you not aware? Are you not aware of what it is we do here?!” His voice bounced off the walls of nearby houses. Negan’s tone rang in everyone’s ears, some shuddering, few cried, and most straightened their spines. 

 

“I already went over the rules, Rick. Remember that night? When I killed your pals? Do I need to repeat that night? Do I need you to actually cut out your son’s eye out and feed it to you? What will it take to remind you of the damn rules!” Rick struggles to fight against the tears swelling in his eyes. The fear of losing another friend, another brother, sister, another lover.

 

Collectively, the survivors took a step forward.

 

For most, it wasn’t an actual step. They raised their chins, glared daggers at the murderer, or shifted their weight onto another foot. Michonne inhaled sharply, Rick growled deep in his throat, Daryl fought against Dwight and Maggie bent her knees slightly. Enid’s hand tightened around her knife, Carol sighed, Morgan’s fingers flexed around his staff, and Aaron held Eric a little closer.

 

It all happened too quick, it all flashed before him like a camera taking a picture. Everyone was left paralyzed, but the leader son’s still had movement.

 

“I  _ need _ you to know me, Rick.”

 

Negan raised Lucille, that damn wooden baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire, the metal shimmering in the sunlight briefly. And when the fucking sporting equipment landed, everyone was equally shocked. Rick’s skull was cracked open, and the father fell onto the steaming pavement.

 

Michonne took a step back, along with Carol as their eyes swelled with uncontrollable tears. A wet sob escaped from someone, somewhere in the crowd of fear. 

 

The courage was broken briefly. 

 

“NO!” Carl’s throat felt raw suddenly, and his feet moved for him without mental permission. The Saviors raised their guns, but Negan put them all down in a single hand motion. His smirk quickly vanished as Daryl broke out of Dwight’s grip and ran up to the teen.

 

Carl didn’t get far, but he was in front of the crowd when Daryl tackled him, desperate to prevent more bloodshed.

Carl didn’t grunt like he usually did when he was shoved to the ground. No, he fucking screamed. A shaky breath went past Rosita’s lips, tears streaming down her face but she couldn’t look away. Not enough strength.

 

Rick laid on the ground, sputtered and gasped on the ground, blood seeping into his eyes, throat, and nose. A choked sob echoes from his throat, and he stumbles to lift himself up. Carl squirms underneath Daryl, hands pressed against the redneck’s chest to push him off, but quickly proves useless. 

 

Tears run from Carl’s eyes, and he’s screaming again, successfully getting out of Daryl’s grasp to sit up, legs extended out to his dying father before Daryl can get ahold of him again. 

 

Daryl swings his arms, hooking them underneath Carl’s and locking the boy’s head between his wrists. He kneels behind Carl, tears steadily running down his face. But he fights to stay strong for Carl, knowing the true pain of losing  _ both  _ of your parents.

 

Rick, sprawled out on the road and blood gushing from his forehead, extends a hand out to Carl, to which lands on his ankle. And it promptly reminds Carl of that night he thought his father turned. 

 

“C-Carl…” He sputtered, choking on blood. “Ta-take care of… J-Ju-Judith.” And a gunshot rings out, a bullet flying out from between the father’s eyes and his body collapses at his son’s feet. 

 

This time, Carl doesn’t hold anything back, and he screams until his throat  _ bleeds  _ and his lungs are screaming too, but for air. It’s a loud, long, broken and high pitched scream, and most Saviors turn their heads or cover their ears, Negan being one of them.

 

Daryl squeezes his eyes shut, Michonne lets out a pitiful cry out as she looks down, Maggie sobs quietly, and Enid wraps an arm around herself for comfort. Eric hides his face in Aaron’s shoulder, Carol merely falls to her knees, Sasha actually does, Rosita gives a final squirm in the Saviors’ grasps and Tara covers her face with her hands. Eugene cowers in a corner, squeezing his eyes shut to hide the horrors and Morgan bites his lip, wiping away any tears.

Carl has officially gone  _ insane. _ He hates to say it, but he has. And now he gasps for air, eye clouded with tears as he fights against Daryl. 

 

Losing a parent is hard in itself, but losing  _ both  _ is worse than you think, especially at Carl’s age. Carl has fallen apart before the Saviors, before Negan, and before his  _ family.  _ And now it’s up to his family to pick the pieces up. 

  
But somethings, and most things, are always a little too late. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to request an one shot! But ask nicely.


End file.
